A Dad's Advice
by AlwaysPadfoot
Summary: Ron's got a crush on his flatmate. There's only one person he wants to go to for advice.


AN: Prompts will be displayed at the bottom to avoid them potentially giving away things.

* * *

 **A Dad's Advice**

 **AlwaysPadfoot**

* * *

Ron lay in darkness, staring up at the ceiling.

Despite all the things that were on his mind, his eyes seemed to fixate on the glow-in-the-dark stars Fred and George had stuck up there on moving-in day. He was wondering whether they might have super glued them on. He would kill them if he lost his deposit because of a stupid prank. Exhaling frustratedly, he turned over in bed, feeling every spring in the mattress. He'd known taking the basic room would mean that the furniture wasn't that great, but it was all he could afford if he wanted to be able to eat whilst he was here at University.

Checking his phone, which read 00:06, Ron rubbed his hands across his face and swung his legs out of bed to sit up. It was no use; he wasn't getting to sleep any time soon.

Sitting at his desk, Ron picked up his camera and flicked through the photos he'd taken that day. He pursed his lips as he deleted ones he hated and heavily scrutinised everything else. He had to submit one nature-based photo by the end of the week and he already must have taken thousands since the task had been set. There were only two or three he liked. His favourite was a picture of a ginger cat touching its nose against the skull of another cat that had been lying in the forest behind the accomodation he was in. It felt poetic in a way, he guessed — life and death coming together like that.

Then he came across one photo that was different from the others — one he'd taken in the courtyard on the day he'd moved in. Just in the corner, walking into the frame just as he took the photo, was Harry. Harry had been allocated to the same corridor as Ron, and he couldn't help but think his new flatmate was effortlessly gorgeous. With his messy black hair and bright green eyes, he had immediately caught Ron's attention. If they weren't flatmates, then Ron would definitely have considered making a move.

Biting his lip and putting the camera down, Ron tapped the space bar of his computer and opened FaceTime. As always, Dad was at the top of the call list. Considering Dad's odd shifts at work, it was likely that his Dad was awake, so Ron didn't hesitate in pressing call.

It only rang twice before his Dad picked up, although Ron was greeted by a black screen.

"Hello?" Dad said.

"Hi Dad. It's Ron. Any reason I can't see your face?" Ron asked, suspecting that his Dad had put the phone to his ear.

"Oh! Yes," he responded. The picture shifted and Dad finally came into the picture, peering at the screen intently. "Sorry about that. I forgot about this face-thingy."

"FaceTime, Dad," Ron reminded him for what felt like the thousandth time. "Are you in the shed?"

"Oh, yes. I'm taking apart your mother's old mobile phone," Dad responded.

Ron frowned. "Why…?"

"I want to know how it works." Dad placed the phone on the shelf opposite; Ron could barely see him. "Can you see me alright?"

"In a stunning turn of events: no."

What followed that was almost five minutes of Ron trying to help guide his Dad in where to place his phone whilst he worked. When they managed to accomplish that, Dad beamed at him and clapped his hands together as he sat down on his stool.

"Now," he said. "Why on earth are you ringing me at this ungodly hour? I realise you students don't sleep, but it's a Tuesday night."

"I have a crush on someone who lives on the same corridor as me," Ron admitted.

"Oh, my." Dad put down the tiny screwdriver in his hand and looked up, pushing his glasses into his hair. "Boy or girl?"

Of his family, the only two people who knew of Ron's bisexuality were his father and his older brother Charlie. It wasn't that he thought his family would discriminate against him, just that he wanted to understand his sexuality himself before he told anyone else.

"Boy. His name is Harry."

"Right, yes," Dad said. "I spoke to him in the kitchen on the day you moved in. He was wearing sort of coral-coloured glasses. Lovely lad."

"Oh God, you didn't say anything embarrassing, did you?"

Ron's ears burned at the thought of his Dad saying something that would potentially ruin his chances at ever going on a date with Harry.

"Don't worry." Dad laughed. "You're safe from parental embarrassment. It's a good job your mother didn't meet him."

Ron didn't dare to think about it. His mum could be overly affectionate at the best time; he could envision her fussing and calling him Ronniekins in front of his flat mates. A true nightmare in his opinion.

"Why are you worried, son?"

Ron half-smiled. "How do you know I'm worried?"

"Ronald, I've known you forever, remember," Dad said, smirking.

"There's sort of an unofficial rule that, uh, flatmates don't… um." Ron hesitated.

"Make love?"

Ron spluttered. "Dad!"

"What?" He was totally oblivious to what he'd said, or maybe he had done it on purpose. Either way, he was scowling down at the inside of a smartphone and then he looked up, realising his son had gone pink. "Oh Ron, you're an adult. Why can't I say—"

Ron held up a hand to cut him off. "Please don't say it again. Please."

"Okay, okay, fine," he responded. "So there's this rule and as a consequence you won't ask this boy on a date?"

Nodding, Ron ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment.

"The important question is: do you feel there may be a connection?" Dad continued.

Thinking back to Fresher's Week, Ron recalled that he and Harry got on well. After four nights of hardcore clubbing, he, Harry, and Hermione — a girl studying PPE who also lived in their flat — had ordered pizza and shared a bottle of wine. They'd spent a night watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S under a blanket in Hermione's room. As they said goodnight, he and Harry had screamed: "Paper! Snow! A ghost!" in unison down the corridor to one another. It was definitely one of his favourite nights of the first week, despite the fact he couldn't remember at least three of those nights.

Harry was quiet most of the time, clearly an observer, but he was quick-witted and sarcastic. From his Facebook and Instagram, Ron knew Harry was gay, but he couldn't quite figure out whether Harry would ever be interested in someone like him.

"Earth to Ron?"

Catching the flash of the screen as his dad waved to get his attention, Ron refocused on the screen. "Huh?"

"Do you think that there's a spark between you and Harry?"

"I dunno, maybe." Ron shrugged.

"Then to hell with this unofficial rule," Dad said. "Ask him out."

"You think?"

"I know." He had a serious look on his face so Ron knew he wasn't kidding. "If you don't, you'll regret it."

Forever grateful for his father's advice, Ron was glad he'd taught him how to use his phone properly so they could talk. He felt himself relax a touch as his Dad started talking about the sausage and mash that his Mum had cooked that night. Ron, having survived solely on chocolate cereal, alcohol, and pasta for the last two months, missed his mum's cooking. He missed home a lot more when he talked to Dad.

"...Oh, and we have a leak in the roof. I got Charlie over to help because he's better with heights, but he made it worse. You'd think I taught you kids nothing."

"Bloody hell," Ron said, knowing his parents couldn't afford to call someone out to fix it. "Where is it leaking?"

"Well," Dad began, looking away from Ron as he spoke, "put it this way. If it rains, you'll be the first to know."

Ron groaned. "Of course."

Dad assured him he would fix it before the rain that was due later in the week.

"Heavens to betsy! It's nearly two," Dad exclaimed, halfway through a story about Mary Poopins — one of their chickens. "You need to get some sleep, young man. And I need to go back in the house through the garage so your mother doesn't catch me up so late."

"Sneaky," Ron commented, knowing full well that his mum had perfect hearing and would catch him.

"I will send some of your mum's baking; just don't tell your older brothers. I can't be sending care packages all over the place." Dad grinned.

Ron mimicked zipping his mouth shut. "I promise."

"Study hard, and get that date."

"Yeah, okay. Love you."

"Love you, Ron. Bye!"

There was a lot of rustling and Ron detected a whispered curse word as he watched his Dad end the call.

Stretching his arms above his head, Ron yawned and then closed his laptop. Retreating to the warmth of his dark grey and yellow striped bed sheets, Ron settled back in bed for the second time that night. He inhaled deeply, wondering how the hell he would broach the topic of a date with Harry.

He still hadn't thought of a way by the time his eyelids started to droop. Deciding that he would plan his line of attack in the morning, Ron turned over in bed and was asleep before he could worry about it anymore.

* * *

The following morning, Ron woke to the daylight seeping through the gap in his curtains. A thin strip of light fell across the corkboard on his wall that was decorated with Polaroid pictures, both from home and the last two months.

Throwing an arm across his face when he realised it wasn't even ten o'clock yet, Ron was almost tempted to try and go back to sleep.

He pulled the covers over his head and squinted as his phone screen lit up when he unlocked it. His home screen was filled with notifications, most of which were junk. Scrolling through them, Ron made a mental note of things he had to do and started to catch up.

 ** _Prophet Photo Squad_**

 _LJ — Waddup squad, I need pictures from this week's sports events and also from the market. Dean, Cho & Marcus you're on sports. Ron, you can cover the markets. Deadline: Friday 9pm. I know you usually get until Saturday morning but I'm getting absolutely fucking smashed on Friday night so I need them before that._

 _MF — Is that so if you die from self-inflicted alcohol poisoning the editor won't resurrect you and then kill you again?_

 _LJ — You got it, Flinty ;) xxx_

 ** _Flat Nine Lives (Just)_**

 _SF — im stil drunkk frm last nite_

 _SF — y am i in a 9am_

 _HG — So you don't fail?_

 _LB — Awww, sweetie, first year doesn't count xo_

 _HP — I'm with Lav this time 'mione. If he's drunk what's the point?_

 _SF — thik imma vom_

 _PP — gross_

 _HG — Disgusting Seamus._

 _NL — Has anyone seen my shoes?_

 ** _Dad_**

 _Good luck with Harry. I believe in you son. X_

Ron rolled over and frowned, opening a text thread to Harry and then closing it. Then he re-opened it; then closed it again.

"Bloody hell, Ron. You're such a wuss."

He really didn't want to make the flat feel awkward for the next seven months if Harry didn't like him back, but on the other hand, his dad always gave great advice. Ron always felt that his dad had the most honest advice even when he was excitedly dismantling something that probably shouldn't be dismantled.

Kicking the duvet off him, Ron decided that without a hot drink inside him, he couldn't make a decision. The corridor was quiet except for the gentle hum of music coming from Lavender's room.

The kitchen was a mess as expected and there were four inflatable bananas on the table for some bizarre reason. Ron flicked the kettle on and opened the cupboard to rummage around for his bright yellow mug. It was behind Harry's — a mug which read Warrior not a Worrier in rainbow letters.

Suddenly an idea hit him.

* * *

 _ **Ron & Harry — Texts**_

 _R — fancy a tea?_

 _H — Ron, you're a Queen. Yes plz._

 _R — youre welcome, wanna watch some more B99 as well?_

 _H — I'm beginning to think you know me too well, Mr Weasley._

 _R — it's a talent. come over to my room, doors open, and i'll be in with the tea in a sec._

 _H — 3_

* * *

Ron's heart leapt a little when Harry sent back a little purple heart emoji. Listening hard over the noise of the kettle, he heard a door in the corridor open and close, followed by another door afterwards.

Unable to keep the smile off his face, Ron made the two cups of tea quickly and then carefully took them back to his room, pushing the doors open with his back. The last thing he wanted to do was spill tea all over himself; that would be a disaster.

Back in his room, Harry was stood by the desk, a yellow blanket wrapped around his shoulder like a cape. In his hands were a stack of photos that Ron had taken.

"These are brilliant," he said, before holding up the picture of the cat and skull. "This particularly. When did you take this?"

"Uh, yesterday. I printed it out last night whilst I was talking to my dad," Ron answered, setting the mugs down on the side. "I have to submit a nature-based photo at the end of the week and that's actually my favourite so far."

"I sort of want it for the background for my laptop," Harry said. "I have a minor obsession with cats."

"Really?"

"Yup." Harry popped the 'p' and turned to grin at Ron, before his eyes lit up at the sight of his mug of tea. "I love a good cup of tea."

He sat on the edge of Ron's bed and Ron moved to the desk to turn on his laptop so they could watch Netflix. In the corner of his eye, Ron saw Harry cup his mug between his hands and close his eyes in bliss. He had to turn away to hide his smile. Scrolling through the options on the screen, he found B99 in his recently watched list and was about to hit play when Harry cleared his throat.

"So, were you thinking of asking me out any time in the next year?"

Ron's ears immediately turned pink, and he spun around on his desk chair and stammered a response out. "I — what? Sorry, you — um, you know?"

"You have a kind of aroma about you," Harry said simply, as if that made any sense at all.

Ron frowned. "Are — are you saying I smell gay?"

"It could just be that you smell clean." Harry smirked before adding, "Unlike those other heathens we live with."

Suddenly hot under the collar, Ron wasn't entirely what to say. He'd expected to have more control of the situation than this. Rubbing the back of his neck, he bashfully found himself looking away from Harry. His mind couldn't string a sentence together.

"Ron?" Ron hummed in acknowledgment and Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you want to go on a date?"

"I—yeah, I really would like that," Ron said, face flushed.

Harry beamed. "You're cute when you're all embarrassed."

If it were possible, Ron blushed even more than he already was, which made Harry laugh hard. He pushed his coral-framed glasses back up his nose once he'd caught his breath and then smiled at Ron. Patting the bed, Harry offered Ron some of the blanket around his shoulders.

"Shall we watch some TV then?" Harry asked.

Ron grinned, hit play, and retreated to Harry's side. Despite his initial nerves, Ron finally relaxed. Harry draped his legs over his lap and Ron couldn't stop smiling as they watched TV and talked off and on. They did eventually arrange a date. Harry wanted to go to a National Trust site not far away and Ron promised to take his camera. Then, afterwards, they were going to order pizza and watch scary movies.

Ron couldn't wait to tell his dad that Harry was going on a date with him.

* * *

 ** _Dad and Ron — Texts_**

 _R — WE'RE GOING ON A DATE!_

 _D — Well done, Ron! I'm very happy for you! You call me when you get the chance. Lots of love, Dad xx_

* * *

QLFC, Round 12 — CHASER 3: Write about Ron's relationship with one of his parents. [2. (object) skull, 6. (dialogue) "You have a kind of aroma about you.", 7. (profession) photographer]

Assignment #7: CoMC, Task 3 — Write about someone showing favoritism toward a certain relative.

IHC — 217. (AU) Photographer

365 — 57. (colour) Coral

WC: Character Appreciation — 26. [Dialogue] "Well, put it this way. If it rains, you'll be the first to know."

WC: Disney Challenge — S5. Sally's Song - Write about someone who thinks their feelings are unrequited.

WC: CCC — 1. Ghost: (dialogue) "Paper! Snow! A ghost!" [BONUS]

WC: Book Club — Dr. Sayer: (word) safe, (word) understand, (plot point) being unable to sleep

WC: Showtime — 3. 666: (word) consequence

WC: Amber's Attic — 14. Human Centipede: (word) connection [BONUS]

WC: CYB — W3. Sneaky

WC: AAA — 2. Monster Mash - Bobby "Boris" Pickett — Word Set: mash, smash, flash. [BONUS]

WC: Sophie's Shelf — 13. Annie Wilkes, Task: (dialogue) "Heavens to betsy!"

WC: Em's Emporium — 3. Linked - (word) connection

WC: Angel's Arcade — 3. Jago: (word) warrior, (trait) quiet, (color) dark grey

WC: Lo's Lowdown — C9. Azazel: Write about someone with distinctive eyes. Alt. Word: obsession

WC: Film Festival — 12. (object) Polaroid Photo


End file.
